


Spies/Reunion

by Hunter (thehunter)



Category: A Bit of Fry and Laurie, Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Crossover, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 05:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehunter/pseuds/Hunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Control has some exciting news for Tony!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spies/Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> It isn't necessary to be familiar with _From Eroica With Love_ to read this fic; however, if you've never seen the Control  & Tony sketches from _A Bit of Fry & Laurie_, I would recommend watching at least one or two of them on YouTube first. Otherwise, the whole story will seem utterly ridiculous.
> 
> If the title seems a bit lazy, that's because it is, and also because Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie named the last four Tony & Control sketches that way.

It was a lovely, sunny day at the height of spring, just the sort of really fantastic, warm, cheery weather that makes one want to chuck it all and go out into the park to feed the pigeons. And Control, being a wise man indeed, was doing exactly that. He sat on a bench, periodically reaching into a paper bag for seed to scatter for the avian multitude milling around his feet. The pigeons seemed quite chuffed with this arrangement, but Control's face bore a pensive expression. 

Moments later, he spotted in his peripheral vision a man walking toward him on the path. Neither one acknowledged the other. A casual observer might have taken them for strangers, but Control recognized the tall, lanky figure as that of his good friend Tony Murchison. He suppressed a smile.

Tony stopped beside Control's bench and looked thoughtfully up at the sky. "Blue really is my favorite color," he observed.

"You look ever so dashing in that waistcoat," Control replied, and then he did allow himself to show the happiness he felt. "Hello, Tony. Do sit down. I’m terribly sorry about making you use a code phrase, but we can’t be too careful, can we?"

"No, indeed, Control." Tony joined him on the bench and smiled companionably. "And I must say, it brings back very pleasant memories of my days in SIS. How are things going at the office—that is, if you can tell me?"

Control sighed. "Oh, much the same as usual in some ways, Tony. Sadly changed in others." He paused for a moment, then added, "I do miss our little chats and the way you so kindly brought me my coffee afterward. Nobody makes it quite as well as you used to do." Control was gratified to see that Tony blushed slightly at his remark. "How have you been doing recently?"

Tony's smile wavered a bit, but his tone remained as cheerful as ever. "I don’t mind telling you, Control, that I’ve been having rather a difficult time of it. Much as I’ve always disliked the way we have to keep so many secrets and lie all the time—"

"Oh, quite," Control agreed.

"I just couldn’t bear the idea of leaving the business. So I tried, er, another agency. NATO, you know. It seemed all right at first, Control, but I ran into a most unpleasant fellow on my first assignment. He was frightfully rude and treated everyone abominably. Why, he never even learned my name—he just called me 'idiot' all the time!"

"Oh, dear," Control said with concern. "That really is a shame, Tony. I must say that I’ve never thought of you as an idiot at all; nor, I’m sure, has anyone else at the office. What on earth did you do about him?"

Furrowing his brow a little, Tony replied, "Well, at first I thought that perhaps I had got off on the wrong foot and could make it up to him somehow. Since our units were sharing a field office, I tried bringing him a cup of coffee one morning. Now I know,” he added quickly, “that it probably wasn’t as strong an effort as the coffee that I used to make for you, because…well, anyway, I tried. And do you know what he did?”  
Control couldn’t help feeling a slight pang of jealousy toward this other agent, but it was surpassed by his concern for his friend. “No, Tony, what did he do?”

“Why, he took just one sip and then threw the whole cup straight across the room, and the saucer after it!” Tony was more indignant than Control had ever seen him. “He shouted a few threats at me that I shan’t repeat, and then ordered one of his subordinates to make him some Gold Blend—‘real coffee’, he called it. I said to myself, ‘If this is the sort of personality they favor at NATO, Tony, you’re best off looking elsewhere.’ I finished the assignment and turned in my resignation. That was that."

Something about Tony’s erstwhile colleague sounded familiar. “This other agent, Tony—he wasn’t a tall, dark-haired German, by any chance?”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Why, yes, Control, he was! However did you guess?” 

“Charles Lawrence with the West Germany Desk has mentioned him before. Seems rather taken with the fellow, actually. There’s no accounting for taste.” Control shrugged as he threw another generous pinch of seed to the pigeons, which had begun to coo impatiently. “Anyway, Tony, am I correct in surmising that you are currently without employment?”

His companion sighed. “Yes, that’s true, Control. It is a bit of a bother, but I’m sure something will turn up eventually.”

At that, Control found himself once again battling the urge to grin. “Perhaps sooner than you think, Tony! You see, there is a very good reason why I asked you to meet me here in the park, rather than in my office. I wonder if you can guess what it is?”

“Is it that your office is being redecorated? I seem to recall your mentioning it not long before…” Tony trailed off, reluctant to touch upon what was a rather painful memory for both of them. Luckily, Control saved him from floundering for more than a few seconds.

“Yes I did, Tony, thank you for remembering. There is another reason that we’re out here away from the department, though. But first I want to tell you again just how sorry I am that I had to let you go.” 

Hearing the regret in the other man’s voice, Tony hastened to reassure him. “That’s quite all right, Control. I know that it wasn’t really up to you. Besides, with all of the changes going on behind the Iron Curtain, what choice did you have?”

“None, Tony, but I never would have dismissed you if there had been another way.” Control’s voice grew quite earnest. “You were the best Subsection Chief of the East Germany and Related Satellites Desk we ever had. I said at the time that the office wasn’t going to be the same without you, and do you know what?”

“What’s that, Control?”

“It hasn’t been.” Their eyes locked, and for a long moment, the two men shared a look of breathtaking intensity. As neither of them quite seemed to know where to go from there, their mutual stare persisted and the conversation lagged. At last, Tony broke the silence, which had become fraught with tension of a longing and perhaps slightly naughty sort.

“Things haven’t been the same for me, either, Control,” he said. “I miss the Service. I miss the office. I…I miss you, Control.”

Putting a hand on Tony’s upper arm, Control confessed, “I miss you, too, Tony. And that brings me to the other reason that I asked you to meet me here.”

Tony cleared his throat. “What’s that, Control?”

“Tony, I believe that I have devised a means of getting you back into the office within just a few days.”

This was most welcome news, and Tony’s jaw dropped slightly even as he smiled with gratification. It made him look a little silly, in an endearing way. “Really, Control? That would be wonderful! But how?”

Lowering his voice, as if the pigeons might overhear, his friend asked, “Do you remember Terrence? Head of operations in France and Monaco?”

Tony pondered this for a second. “Hmm. I think so, Control. Is he rather a little chap with a trick knee?” Control nodded. “Ah, yes, good old Terrence. What is he up to these days?”

“Well, actually, Tony, I’m afraid that Terrence has died,” Control said matter-of-factly.

The other man looked slightly chagrined. “Has he really? Well, I’m very sorry to hear that, Control. This can be quite an unpleasant business at times.”

“It certainly can, Tony, although actually, Terrence died after aspirating biscuit crumbs during tea in the staff canteen.” In a conspiratorial tone, he continued, “Now, my idea was that rather than promote one of Terrence’s men to fill the vacancy, I should simply have you take it over.”

Tony started a bit. “What, me, Control? Well, I hardly know what to say. But surely, this is rather unfair to Terrence’s department. I mean, they’ve all worked very hard.”

“That’s true, Tony, but none of them is really ready for this sort of responsibility. Why, David still refers to President Mitterrand as Old Froggy!” Control shook his head and tutted.

“Yes, I have heard him say that,” Tony agreed. Looking shyly down at the pigeons, he added, “Of course, I’d be more than delighted to come back, Control, but are you quite sure that I should?”

With the utmost certainty, Control replied, “I’m positive, Tony. Besides, you have one major advantage over any other candidate for the post.”

“And what might that be, Control?” Slowly, he turned his eyes up toward the other man.

“I’m not in love with any of them.” 

Immediately following that declaration, Control swooped and gathered Tony in his arms and commenced to kiss him thoroughly. Although Tony was rather startled at first, he had in fact dreamed of a moment very much like this for quite some time, and so it was not long at all before he was fervently kissing back, opening his lips to the polite yet insistent brush of Control’s tongue. The bag of birdseed fell unheeded to the ground, where the pigeons swarmed it greedily. 

A blissful moment or two later, both men had to come up for air. Tony brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I say, Control,” he exclaimed, “I had no idea you felt this way! I had resigned myself to admiring you from afar, wondering if you’d ever realize that when I brought you your coffee, I wanted to give you so much more.”

“I did realize it, Tony, eventually,” Control said with a fond smile, “but I was not aware of the extent to which I reciprocated your feelings until you were gone.” Recalling the need for discretion, he shifted slightly toward his own side of the bench, leaving one arm resting along the back of it and around Tony. “Having you back in the office—and in my life—would mean the world to me.”

“And to me as well, Control.” Tony sighed contentedly. The next minute, however, he found himself struck with guilt. “But I say! What about Mrs. Control? Surely we must consider her feelings as well. It’s only fair, the poor woman.” He was a bit taken aback when Control laughed.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Tony. You see, there is no Mrs. Control.”

“Isn’t there? But surely I’ve spoken to her before.” He paused, trying to remember. “Yes, on the phone in your office, Control, on the day that you fell out of the window! Has something happened to her?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Not long after you left, Tony, I discovered that my wife was in fact a mole.” Control shared this news rather blandly, though Tony was sure that it must have been difficult for him.

“No!” he exclaimed, feeling both sympathy and shock that a man with Control’s considerable acumen could have been tricked in such a way.

Control nodded. “I’m afraid it’s true, Tony. Since you’ve talked with her, perhaps you recall that she spoke with an accent?”

“Yes, I do. You told me that she was an American from Georgia.”

“That’s right, Tony, I did, because that was what she’d told me. And she was from Georgia, too—but it was the other one.” In an effort to hide his pained expression, Control bent to retrieve the thoroughly pillaged bag as a fat bird hopped out of it. He crumpled the bag into a ball and tossed it carefully into a nearby rubbish bin.

“Ah, I see.” Tony didn’t see at all, but no matter. “Well, I’m sorry about that, Control. Such a lot of upset and bother for you. I hope she didn’t learn much in the way of state secrets?”

His companion smiled indulgently. “Fortunately, no, Tony. I always tried not to ‘bring my work home with me’, as they say. The former Mrs. Control is in prison now, and I imagine she’ll be staying there for quite a long time.”

“Indeed, I should hope so.” After what he deemed an appropriate pause, Tony ventured, “Er, Control?”

“Yes, Tony?”

“When you were kissing me a few minutes ago…”

Control leaned in none too subtly. “Yes, Tony?”

Tony was blushing now. “Well…it felt ever so wonderful. I wondered if you might like to, you know, do it again?”

“I certainly would, Tony. That and more—though perhaps not in the park.” Control was looking at him in a way that he never had before, a way that Tony could only describe as predatory-yet-loving, and it gave him such a very warm and tingly feeling in his stomach and other bits.

“No, perhaps not, Control,” he managed.

Standing, Control announced, “I think the department can do without me for the rest of the afternoon. Come home with me, Tony. We have a great deal to talk about.”

Tony rose and took Control’s arm as he offered it. “And perhaps I could make you a coffee, Control?”

“Boh!” Control replied fondly, and they strolled off down the path, arm-in-arm.


End file.
